Three Kisses & Three Caskets
by LtTanyaBoone
Summary: Three times they saved each other. Three times they couldn't./ Relationship of the David-children, rated to be on the very safe side.
1. Tali I

_Title:_ Three Kisses & Three Caskets_  
Disclaimers:_ NCIS, the rights to the show and its characters do not belong to me. No money was made by this._  
A/N:_ English is not my native language. So please forgive me my grammar and spelling mistakes._  
Spoilers:_ Kill Ari I and II especially, Bête Noir and Reveille, anything that was ever revealed about Ari Haswari's life and Ziva's_  
Pairing:_ none, David sibling relationship_  
Summary:_ Three times they saved each other. Three times they couldn't._  
A/N2: _As I pointed out in _Soothing Delusions_, my knowledge of Hebrew starts and ends with the word Shalom. I googled "freckle" because I wanted it to be Ari's nickname for Tali, and only found "menumeshet" which is supposed to mean "freckled girl". If it doesn't, I apologize.

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She is three years old. Even though they have the same parents and share a similar complexion, they are night and day. Even their hours of birth reflect that. Her sister is five years older, born on a stormy night in December. At the end of a day, at the end of a year. She is younger, born in the early hours of morning as the sun rose above the roofs of Jerusalem on a perfect spring day. The beginning of renewal.

Her eyes are so much different from those of her siblings. Ari's eyes are dark brown, almost black. They are warm and soft and hard and cold at the same time. They take on a harsh golden glint when he speaks to their father. Zivi's eyes are dark brown. They get lighter when she is confused and darken when she is angry. She gets angry very often. Her own eyes are brown with golden and green spots. Freckles, her mother said. Like those on her nose and cheekbones. Ari calls her Menumeshet as a nickname. Freckled girl. Zivi says Talia. Or when she is angry, Natalia, her full name. It always means she is in trouble.

But right now, there is no one to call her by her full name. There is no one to tell her not to drink that bright blue liquid she found in the cupboard. She is thirsty, and her mother is not there, she has gone out. The maid is cleaning her room, and the nanny is yelling at Zivi. Her father is at that place that her mother hates, that caused them to move to this city four months ago.

It tastes bitter and she spits it out, brushing her hand over her tongue and spitting on the tiles. She feels strange all of a sudden. The world is spinning, and she thinks she is going to be sick. She does not want to, her mother will get mad if she throws up again after the bug she had last week, and her father will not care like always.

She starts crying as the bile rises in her throat and her vision swims. Footsteps sound on the stairs, and someone is talking to her. She feels hands on her forehead, soft hands, smaller than that of their nanny who is gasping and calling for help from the maid. Zivi is cradling her close and puts her finger into her mouth, telling her it's okay as she throws up on her beautiful dress.

She wakes up in a sterile hospital room. Wires are going into her skin, and she is scared. Her throat is dry and hurts, like her head. She wants to cry and a soft sob escapes her. A hand brushed over her curls, gentle, and someone places a kiss on her forehead. She blinks and recognizes her brother who says he will be right back with their parents and a doctor. He leaves, and Zivi scoots closer to her, grinning at her as a large tear rolls down her cheek. She runs her hand over her curls and gently traces the lines of her freckles before she whispers a tiny "I love you". It is the first time she calls her Tultul, and the first time she allows herself to believe her sister actually does care about her.

The skin on her forehead tingles for hours after her soft lips are already gone and she is left alone in the hospital bed.

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**1/6**


	2. Ziva I

_Thank you for the alerts and favs and reviews, they are very much appreciated._

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She is fifteen, and hates her father more than anything else in the world. Which is strange, really, because actually, she wants nothing more than his love and acceptance. That is, she wanted it. It all stopped four weeks ago, when Ari picked her up from school, and Tultul was already in the car, her freckled eyes wide and innocent. It was Ari who told them that their mother had been very sick. It was Ari who told them that she had to be transported to the hospital today. It is Ari's gentle voice that tells them they need to say their goodbyes. It is his voice that comforts them, his hands that brush away their tears, his arms hugging them closer. When their mother draws her final breath, their father is sipping a cup of tea with Officer Hadar. He has not been there to comfort them, he is never there. And she hates him for it.

And now he has grounded her because she talked back and he does not want her to leave so she can see her boyfriend. She is throwing a couple of clothes into a tiny bag when there is a knock on her door. Quickly, she pushes it under her bed and flops down in it as the door opens and her sister's face peers into the room. She breathes a sigh of relief that it is just her. Slowly, she walks over and tilts her head, her stuffed teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms. Tali bites her lip and she sees the effort it is for the girl not to put her thumb into her mouth and suck on it. It is a habit their mother could never break her off, and their father has not cared, because he never noticed. He did yesterday, however, and slapped her, telling her to stop it immediatly, or he would punish her. Punishment from him means belting, and she heard her younger sister whimper in anticipation.

The memory sends a fresh wave of hate through her, and she pulls the little girl to her, kissing her forehead as Tali sucks on her thumb, feeling safe in her arms and trusting that she will protect her. Their father has left for the evening, some fancy dinner that needs his presence. Another part of the job that is so much more important than them. The maid is doing the dishes, they can hear the clatter drift up to her room from the kitchen. The nanny has already retired to her own room and will only come out of one of them calls for her. After all, Tali should already be in bed. But she is not. And she refuses to fall asleep. She holds her and sings her lullabies and she falls into a light slumber. But the moment Ziva moves next to her, tries to extract herself from her embrace and loosen the grip she has on her hand, her little sister jolts awake and stares at her, fear all over her face.

She cannot do this. Not tonight. Not when her sister needs her like this. Because even though only a months ago she wanted nothing more than to be like him, she is not her father. And now she hopes she will never be. She will not leave her little sister when she is in such a state, she just cannot do that. It would be too cruel. They have been through too much for her to do that. She is mad at her father, not at Tultul.

She stays the night. She will call Shmuel the next day, explain things to him. Only there is no one to call the next day. A bomb explodes almost ninety minutes after Tali first walks into her room, blowing the place she would have been at to pieces, and killing a man, a husband and father, killing a woman, a wife and mother, and killing a sixteen year old boy that was waiting for her.

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**2/6**


	3. Ari I

_Since I have not already pointed it out: The chapter titles only say who this story is about, they do not have anything to do with POV as you will notice after this little piece. Chalk it up to me being unable to get into Ari's head and find his voice._

_I hope it's the right name of his mother. If it isn't, well, then I made up a middle name she went by.  
_

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She is twelve years old, and her brother is visiting for the first time in over a year. He has been to England, to finish his medical studies, and now he is a doctor. Dinner is loud and cheerful, and even their father smiles a bit as Ari tells of women in short skirts and of strange dishes like lamb with peppermint sauce. She is happy he is back, because she has missed him so much, and knows her sister feels just the same. For the first time in months, the house is not filled with silence and tension

Zivi laughs and sips at her wine and winks at her. She waits until Ari starts a new story, hoping their father will concentrate fully on his one son, the young man he is proud of, but then the maid comes fetching him because there is a phone call waiting for him. Then Zivi slowly takes her wine and lets the glass travel below the table. She drops her fork and goes after it, taking a quick sip of the red liquid from her sister's glass and making a face. Why do they keep drinking this stuff, anyway? She comes up from the table and sees her brother's amused grin at her slightly disgusted face. And then they both laugh because they can.

Ten minutes later, their father returns, and the atmosphere shifts. He tells her and Zivi to leave the room. At her question what is going on, he snaps at them. Zivi takes her hand, calls her Tultul and gently pulls her from the room.

Hazmina is dead. The beautiful, gentle woman that gave her brother life and hope, that has send her a beautiful handmade blanket for last Chanukah, she is dead. Ari's mother is dead, just like her own.

In the middle of the night, she creeps down the stairs to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. It is hot during the summer, and her throat is dry from all the crying. She uses the light from the fridge to find herself a glass. Someone is sitting at the dining room table, all lights turned off. She can make out his shape, and relaxes, recognizing her brother. Slowly, she sips at her water until the glass is empty, then she closes the fridge and walks over to him, standing beside him in the darkness. She does not say anything, because it is not the first time she has learned of the death of someone close to them, and despite her age, she knows that no amount of words will make the pain go away. So she stands there, in the darkness, comforting him with her presence. After a while, she notices there is something in his hands as he turns to look at her. She cannot make out what it is, perhaps some token of his mother. She offers her hand to him, and he slowly places the large item on the wooden table before getting up. The shape is familiar, but she is tired and cannot place it. He lifts her into his arms, effortlessly carrying her to his bedroom. She snuggles up in his embrace and waits for his heartbeat to lull her to sleep. He holds her close, his grip on her tiny body almost painful, and she feels tears spilling onto her curls and lips brush her forehead in a gentle caress. All the time, he does not make a single sound except for his ragged breathing. Because David children do not cry, and he is not a child any more, he is a man.

She wakes up to an empty bed. Ari is gone, and she slowly walks down the stairs to get her breakfast. Surprised, she finds that only her sister is there, and not the nanny. The expression on Zivi's face is dark, and she pours herself a bowl of cornflakes. Halfway through the meal, she asks where the others are. And is told that their nanny is accompanying their brother to a psychologist. After she found his gun on the dining room table in the morning.

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3/6**


	4. Tali II

_So, we have left the three times the siblings saved each other behind, and are now entering the three times they could not save each other. Which means:_

_**WARNING! Character Death! **Expect the same warning on the next two chapters, too.  
_

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She is twenty-one. Her first mission for Mossad is over, and she returns with bruises and her first real battle scars. She is proud of them, proud that they show her devotion to her country and her job.

She does not have to call her father, because he debriefs her. She stands in his office and tells of her mission, of how she killed a man barely two months older than her by stabbing him while she was seducing him. How she ran into his brother afterwards, and how she barely managed to escape. She sees the curt nod, hears the small grunt and then she is dismissed, wondering if he gave his approval or if she disappointed him yet again.

She does not have to call her brother because he works in the same building and is breaking in a new recruit. She watches them spar and sees him kick the stranger's butt before they share a cup of tea and an awful lunch in the cafeteria. They talk, and she presses her lips together tightly. He pulls her with him, finds a supply closet and there, he embraces her and lets her cry for the life she has taken, the sin she has committed, lets her voice her doubts that what they do is the right thing. Then she thinks of her sister, sweet, innocent Tultul, and she does not know how she will be able to look into her eyes ever again. He tells her to simply try and talk to her. So she calls her sister.

Tultul's soft voice makes her heart dance and leap as she hears the excited shriek when the younger girl realizes her sister is back in the country, safely back with them. They talk for an hour, and then Officer Hadar tells her he needs her to sign a few documents. So she asks Tultul to come by her place in the evening, they can cook and talk and watch a movie and have insane amounts of popcorn, and maybe she can have a glass of that sweet white wine she took a sip of the last time she came around.

Her steps are light as she walks down the street to her apartment building. She moved out of the house when her time in the IDF ended and she officially joined Mossad. She just could not come home beaten up and bloody, and wake her sister while showering in the middle of the night and have her see the blood and wounds on her body. Tultul is too good, too precious to ever have blood on her hands. She is too innocent to know what the jobs of her siblings really entail. She is too empathetic to know it and not be sad for the lives they will be taking in the future. She is a healer, she will be a great pediatrician sometime in the future, save their lives while her siblings destroy those of others.

She starts fixing Tultul's favorite dish, or rather, the preparations for it. Because they both love cooking and have so much fun doing it together. She opens the bottle of wine she bought on her way home and pours herself a small glass, taking a sip of it and flinching slightly. She prefers red wine, dry and a bit bitter. Tultul loves white, sweet wine, served chilled. It is their secret. Their father does not know that his youngest daughter is drinking, and he will not learn of it from either one of them. She is not stupid and watches what Tultul drinks and how much. She will not allow for her to get drunk or have more than one glass of wine. When she drinks, she looks so much like an adult, with the glass in her hand, that it frightens her. Her little sister is sixteen years old, only one more year until she is finished with school and her mandatory time in the Army will come. But she cannot think of this now. Sweet, innocent Tali cannot be pictured in a uniform, or with a gun in her hand. She is compassionate and kind, not hard and cold like the metal of a weapon. Her mind is sharp, and not the edge of the knife that is hidden on her body. She would never be able to inflict pain on somebody else, and it is the biggest difference between them.

The telephone rings. Sirens echo in the distance as she answers the person calling her. It is her brother. For a second, she is confused. Then she realizes he is not calling her because work needs her and she has to cancel her evening with their sister.

Pictures assault her as she drops the receiver and collapses into a sobbing bundle on her hardwood floor. She clutches her Star of David as she cries out in anguish, feels pain so deep that she cannot breathe. She has just lost everything it is worth living for.

Hours later, she stands in a cold room. Her brother is standing next to her, holding her hand as she gives a curt nod. The ME pulls back the white sheet from the face of the body. She drops Ari's hand and takes three steps forward, leaning in. Carefully, she lifts her hand and brushes away a soft curl on her sister's forehead. Her eyes are closed; she looks so peaceful, as if she were only sleeping. But the stench of burnt flesh is in the air, and the ME has only pulled the sheet down enough to not cover her chin any more. There is only a small cut on her forehead and an abrasion on her left cheek; otherwise her face is as beautiful, as angelic as ever. It is the first time in four months that she sees her little sister. It is the last time she sees her except for her memories.

**

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4/6**


	5. Ari II

_**WARNING! Character Death!**  
_

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She has forgotten her age. She has forgotten her name. She has forgotten who she is, where she is from. Her world is reduced to the four walls of the basement of an unfamiliar house. To the two people standing there. One of them is a complete stranger, the other she has known all her life.

He stands there, and her biggest nightmare comes true. Ever since Tali's death she has been haunted by visions of losing her brother. Of losing the one person she would now give her life for if it meant he could live another second. She loves him so much, too much, he is her older brother. His name is Ari, and true to it, he is her lion, her savior. He has caught her when she stumbled after the death of their sister.

Now she does not see him anymore. She sees a monster, a monster their father has created. He has not been her Ari for a while now. The changes took place slowly, unnoticeable in themselves, until the bigger picture, the one that made up his persona had changed too much to do anything about it.

She wishes she would have noticed it sooner. That she would have been there to catch his fall, like he had done for her. Wishes that she would have been able to see how much he had changed after Tali's death. But she has been too needy, to occupied with herself and making it through the day to think about how her brother may feel.

This time, she is there when her sibling dies. There is no phone call to give her the news, she sees it happen. Not only that, but she pulls the trigger and ends his life. Not because it was an order, she may be obeying most of them, but this is one she would not. She does it because she knows there are worse things than death. And she knows that if she does not kill him, he will murder another innocent, and that blood will be on her hands, too. And if he was to be brought back to Israel alive, their father would take his punishment into his own hands. He is a traitor to him, to their family, their country and everything Mossad stands for. And even though he is a traitor, he will not be dealt with officially. He would disappear into the dark world that is Mossad. No. She can kill him and know that he will find his peace, hope he does find it in death. But she cannot be responsible for the amount of pain that would be inflicted upon him. Just like she cannot let him inflict pain on anyone else.

She stands over the dead body of her brother and watches the blood seep from his shattered skull. Her knees grow weak and she sinks down on the stool. A tune comes to her mind and she hums it gently before giving voice to the words in her native language, a failed attempt to provide comfort to herself. She remembers the soft tune being sung at Tali's funeral, and breaks down in hysterical sobs. Because she is the only one left of them, and she does not know if she has the strength to remain the last one standing for long.

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5/6**


	6. Ziva II

_Thank you all for your reviews, favs and alerts on this story. I feel like I am letting you down with this final chapter, because even though she goes out with a BANG! (quite literally so), this probably is not the death most of you imagined for Ziva David. For me, there were always two ways she could die, and I did not want to go with the more obvious one._

_**WARNING! Character Death!**  
_

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She is a newborn child. She is a hundred years old. She is a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a woman, a saint, a sinner, a devil in the disguise of an angel. She has everything someone could dream of. She has nothing that makes life worth living.

She has aged, is wise beyond her years. She has seen too many horrible things, and too few good in the world. She does not believe in happy endings, and now the faint glimmer of hope that perhaps, they existed, is gone.

She has buried too many people, mourned the loss of too many souls.

Her sister died at the hands of a suicide bomber. A man that hated and killed with only hate in his heart. She was young, ambitious. She had compassion. Had she lived, the world would be a better place simply because of her existence.

Her brother was a killer himself. He died at her hands. She put an end to his existence. He was a man that killed with hate in his heart, and she wanted that hate to stop. She wanted a world where her children could grow up in peace and harmony, where hate and spite would be a thing of the past.

She will die on her own terms. She will be the last person she kills. The last of the children of Eli David to die. This time, he has nothing to with her death. And he is the only one responsible for it. As a child, she never learnt how to love and then let go of the person you loved. You either loved or you did not. There was no loving and not having, never. The world was black and white, grey did not exist. As an adult, there was no more black and white to her world, it was full of shades of grey. The last extreme colors disappeared with the death of her brother.

She has learned to love through him. Learned that it needed time and that unconditional love really existed. He made her believe that everything was possible, even happy endings. He showed her countless movies where everything worked out in the end. She should have known that for them, there would never be a happy ending. It simply just was not part of God's plan for them.

She lost him, both of them, and it is too much for her to take. She could have dealt with losing one of them, maybe, if the other had been there to provide her with a reason to push through the pain and anger and longing and fear. But neither of them is there, all her reason have disappeared.

The gun is the same her brother almost used on himself. It has not been fired since his death. It stayed hidden in a box on the top shelf of her dresser, just out of her reach. There are two bullets in the clip, just as a precaution if she does not manage it on the first attempt. Which she does not assume. She has perfection drilled into her, and she will not allow herself to fail, not when succeeding has never been as important.

There is no pain. There is a bright flash and the sound of a shot and the smell of a gun being fired, but then, there is blinding white light.

Finally, it is over. And finally, she is reunited with her husband, her daughter, her brother and her sister. And even though this is not her life any more - what is it, anyway? – in the embrace of her sister, she feels truly happy for the first time in months.

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6/6**


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